Learning to Trust

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “The ranch has always turned huge profits.” She shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun and peered up at Denny. He still smelled of hay and horse, with bronzed skin even more leathery than she remembered. “How did this happen?”

  “We’ve had several dry years in a row, which meant more feed bought for the stock.” Denny leaned a hip against the back-porch rail. “Cattle prices were down a few years, and several new horse ranches in the area are giving us stiff competition. All of it, combined with your daddy’s illness, took a toll.” He shifted his weight. “You gonna accept the offer?”

  “I’m not sure.” She had a nice nest egg, and her dad had left her a hefty inheritance. But with no income, she couldn’t risk holding on to the ranch and paying to keep it going, especially since her daughter was depending on her. Yet, it would be an insult to take such a loss on the ranch her family had put blood and sweat into for three generations.

  Her phone rang, and she dug it out of her pocket. Her former boss. “I need to get this.”

  “Take your time. I’ll keep an eye on Little Miss.” Denny straightened and strode toward the arena.

  “Hello?”

  “How’s it going in Timbuktu?” Miles’s tone didn’t match his attempt at humor.

  “Not as well as I hoped.”

  “I really hate to hear that. You’ve had a lot on you lately, and I’m afraid I have more bad news.” A heavy sigh. “I called that friend of mine at the rodeo in Bulverde—he just hired a new marketing director.”

  “Thanks for trying, Miles.” Her heart sank. “I’ll find something.”

  “I’m sorry, Larae. You’re the best marketing director I ever worked with. I’ve a good mind to tell our new manager just what I think of her downsizing notions.”

  “Don’t, Miles. She’s just doing her job, cutting costs where she can. Keep your mouth shut and keep your job. You’ve only got a few more years until retirement. I’ll be fine.” She stood and paced the length of the porch.

  “You let me know of any calls I need to make once you get your résumé out there. Some awesome rodeo will snap you up.”

  “Thanks, Miles.”

  “Don’t be a stranger.”

  “I won’t.” She stepped off the porch and turned to face the back of the ranch house. All log beams and cedar siding. It had been her home for as long as she could remember. But now both of her parents were gone, the ranch was losing money, and she no longer had a job.

  There weren’t that many year-round rodeos in operation in Texas. What would she do now? She headed toward the arena.

  She could live on her reserves if she unloaded the ranch. But rodeo was her passion and gave her flexible hours, with most of her work done from home, so she could always be there for Jayda. Her job had even allowed her dad to move in with them after his first stroke.

  As she neared the arena, the ranch hand gave Jayda the reins, then stood in the center as her daughter circled, chattering nonstop. The child had never met a stranger.

  Denny heard her approach and turned to face her, leaning against the arena rail with a grimace. “Bad news?”

  It must have shown on her face.

  “Look, Mommy. I think Beans likes me.” Jayda circled near holding the reins.

  “You’re a natural.” Larae waited until Jayda passed, then lowered her voice and summed up the phone call.

  “You’re too good at what you do to be unemployed for long.” Denny scowled, gathering her into a fatherly hug. The sweet gesture made her miss her dad even more. Her eyes burned with a mixture of grief and frustration. But she wouldn’t give in to it. She blinked away the moisture and pulled out of his arms, even though his embrace felt like home.

  “Did I tell you Lexie’s wanting to move home? She’s trying to get a job at the clinic in Bandera.”

  “No, but I’m not surprised.” Her best friend since childhood had always loved tiny Medina. “The city never fit her as well as it does me.”

  “You could stay here and run the ranch. Turn this place around.”

  “I don’t know anything about ranching.”

  “Your staff does.”

  “But we’re in the red.” She scanned the dry, hardened ground, cracked from lack of rain. “If this drought keeps up, we’ll stay there.”

  “A lot of the ranches in Bandera have opened dude ranches. The house is plenty big to accommodate guests.”

  “But this is Medina. You really think tourists would come here?”

  “If we give them something to come for. And we have our very own marketing guru.”

  “Mommy, I don’t want to go back to our condo.” Jayda circled again, waving. “I want to stay here and ride Beans every day. Why did we never come here before?”

  “I didn’t realize you’d enjoy it so much.” Partly true. But Larae had purposely stayed away for the last eight years to avoid Jayda’s father. “It’s only Sunday, sweetie. We’ve got the rest of the week here. But how about we visit more often in the future?”

  “I guess.” The joy drained from her daughter’s voice.

  If she sold the ranch, there wouldn’t be a here to visit. Jayda didn’t know about the possible sale. Not yet. Larae hated keeping Jayda in the dark, but she hadn’t expected her little girl to fall in love with the place so quickly.

  Denny waited until Jayda passed out of earshot. “You could start your own rodeo. Here.” He gestured to Jayda. “You’ve already got one vote to stay.” He stuck his hand in the air. “I agree with Little Miss.”

  Larae chuckled. “Do you have any idea what that would entail? We’d have to construct a building, seating, the arena, hire a stock contractor and staff.”

  “You’ve already got the outdoor arena your daddy built for you back when you started barrel racing. A little upgrade, and you’d be all set. And without your job, you don’t have anything to hightail it back to Dallas for.” He scrutinized her. “Do you?”

  When she’d shown up yesterday with Jayda in tow, Denny hadn’t asked questions about her little girl’s father. This was as close as he’d ever get.

  “Nothing.” Her cheeks heated. “But to turn a consistent profit, we’d have to go year-round indoor and get professionally sanctioned. And the ranch might go under before I can get all that done.”

  “Spruce up the outdoor facility to get things up and running while you build an indoor one.”

  Her own rodeo. And she could run it the way she wanted. Alcohol free—truly family friendly in honor of her mother. Living on her childhood ranch. It sure was tempting.

  “Guess who lives next door?”

  “Who?”

  “A stock contractor.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “Naw, I’m shooting straight with you. It’s like somebody wants you here. And I’m not talking about me or Little Miss.” Denny looked up at the sky.

  Larae followed his gaze. Do you want me here, Lord? A sense of peace settled over her. More than she’d known since she’d left here at eighteen.

  And the thing that had kept her away—Rance Shepherd—was still traveling the rodeo circuit, last she’d heard. Her father had tried to talk her into moving back over the years, but she’d been knee-deep in her job—the job she didn’t have anymore. And she hadn’t wanted to face questions about Jayda’s father. She still didn’t.

  “I can see your wheels spinning.” Denny grinned. “Why don’t you go on over next door and put some feelers out? You might even remember our new neighbor. He worked for—”

  Jayda circled again. “Isn’t she pretty, Mommy?”

  “She is, sweetie. But not as pretty as you.” She winked at her daughter. “I have an errand to run. You do what Denny tells you, and I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’d be right nice if you and Little Miss stayed put,” Denny said.


  “I’m just checking things out.” She headed down the drive to cut across to the ranch house next door. Who was this stock contractor? The Long family had lived there for as far back as she could remember. Maybe one of their sons or grandsons owned it now. Denny had been about to tell her when Jayda had interrupted. She should have stuck around long enough to get a name.

  The Texas sun prickled her skin as she opened the side gate to the Longs’ yard. With aged graying wood siding, the house looked just as it always had, and the wide, inviting front porch still beckoned her to sit a spell.

  Something slammed into her backside. Screaming, she flailed, then sprawled on the parched earth, barely missing a collision with the bottom step.

  * * *

  Rance bolted around the house. A second scream erupted. In the yard, a petite blonde sat in the dust near the porch. With Gruff nibbling at her shoe.

  “Gruff, what did you do?”

  She rolled away and tried to scramble to her feet.

  He grabbed the water soaker gun from the porch, flooded the goat and elicited another scream from the blonde.

  “Baa!” Gruff reared up on his back hooves, then disappeared around the side of the house.

  “He’s gone. Just a big baby.” He reached to help her up. “Are you hurt?”

  She pushed to her feet, ignoring his hand, then wiped off her seat and brushed at the grime on her light-colored jeans. Her right leg was soaked, thanks to him. She looked up and revealed the bluest eyes that had ever left a hole in his heart. His breath caught in his lungs.

  Larae’s gaze turned icy. “Rance? What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask the same of you.” He tried for natural, but his tone came off stilted. He’d only moved back because Larae Collins had left for the city ages ago. And stayed there. Surely she was only visiting, here to sell her childhood ranch now that her dad was gone. “Sorry about Gruff. I borrowed him from a friend to clean up all the dead, out-of-control flower beds for me.”

  “Leave it to you to keep an attack goat in the yard.”

  “I wasn’t expecting visitors. Sorry for the dowsing, too. I’m trying to teach him manners with the master blaster.” He managed a tight smile. “Guess I need to work on my aim.”

  “His playing could hurt someone. Especially a child.” She frowned.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t have any of those.”

  Something snapped in her eyes. She turned and stalked away. Flung the gate open, slammed it shut. It automatically latched as she marched out of sight.

  What had he said to rile her so? Maybe it was just him in general? After all, he’d broken up with her out of the blue. She still didn’t know why, and he couldn’t tell her. But that was eight years ago.

  He shot after her, through the gate, and caught up with her halfway down her long driveway. “Did you need something?”

  “Never mind.” She ignored him as he matched her stride. As if he wasn’t even there.

  “Well, at least let me buy you a new pair of jeans.”

  “They’ll wash, and they’re not designer.”

  One of the reasons he’d initially liked her as a teen. They’d gone to a private school full of rich and spoiled kids. Yet Larae had never been snooty or had to have the best of everything, even though her family could’ve afforded it and then some.

  “At least tell me what you came over for? Were you looking for one of the Long girls?” Even though the Longs had been a hardworking ranch family struggling to make ends meet and their kids went to public school, Larae had befriended the middle daughter.

  She stopped and faced him. “Fine. I came to talk to the stock contractor. Do you work for him?”

  “Actually.” He hesitated. “You’re looking at him.”

  Copyright © 2020 by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  Love Harlequin romance?

  DISCOVER.

  Be the first to find out about promotions, news and exclusive content!

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  Instagram.com/HarlequinBooks

  Pinterest.com/HarlequinBooks

  ReaderService.com

  EXPLORE.

  Sign up for the Harlequin e-newsletter and download a free book from any series at

  TryHarlequin.com

  CONNECT.

  Join our Harlequin community to share your thoughts and connect with other romance readers!

  Facebook.com/groups/HarlequinConnection

  ISBN: 9781488060113

  Learning to Trust

  Copyright © 2020 by Ruth M. Blodgett

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at CustomerService@Harlequin.com.

  Love Inspired

  22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor

  Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada

  www.Harlequin.com